Luyện nghe bài hát Sellers of Flowers

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

The sellers of flowers buy up old
They pull off dead petals, like old of lettuce
And sell 'em as new ones, for and fairer
But they die by the morning, so who is the

Not the roses, not the buyers, not the sellers, winter

'Cause coming, soon after summer
It faster, faster, chasing off autumn
We go from a warm sun to a white sun
We go from a sun to only a small one

When I was a small girl, I walked through the
Holding my dad's hand, mitten-gloved
That night there were roses, lit up in glass
The heat lamps would keep them freezing in winter

We never them but somebody must have
Maybe they made it or they froze up
Before any person had put in water
And hoped that they'd be alive by the morning

Who's the
Not the roses, not the buyers, not the sellers,
Not the tellers, of the stories,
Not the fathers, not children,
Not walking on a dark night,
Through a memory forgetting,
Who's the winner, who's the
Maybe winter, winter

Somebody steps on a through a tunnel
They're holding a piece of their in the rubble
on, I won't let go, I want to know

But no one lives enough to see the outcome
To know any answers, to know what the is
To if the winter ever came closer
Than on that night when I walked with my

A piece of ice, lodged in my mind
Lodged in my thoughts, lodged in my
Cold all around, all around
Warm from inside, warm inside

Who's the
Not the roses, not the buyers, not the sellers,
Not the tellers, of the stories,
Not the fathers, not children,
Who's the
Not the roses, not the buyers, not the sellers,
Not the tellers, of the stories,
Not the fathers, not children,
Not those on a dark night,
Through a they're forgetting,

Who's the winner, who's the
Maybe winter, maybe
the winner, who's the winner
Maybe winter, maybe
the winner, who's the winner